


Neon

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-19
Updated: 2001-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-01 07:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys make up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neon

## Neon

by Lar and Kassie

<http://www.obsessedmuch.net/slashville>

* * *

Title: Neon  
Authors: Lar lime-poptart@home.com Kassie ethros@go.com Spoiler: None, really. Set before Jitters. Rating: NC-17 to be safe, but not really Summary: The boys make up.  
Dedication: Zahra, princess that she is, for the beta. All the lovely SV people who fbed us on the first part. Note: This follows directly from `Shine'. It's a series with no name, it's a series with no name, because we're so lame...(sing along) 

Clark's come to a place between last night and now where he thinks that his life has taken a new path. Unmoored, even though he doesn't know all that much about boats, that word seems somehow right. Super-speed, scary eye-abilities, figuring out the meteor rock thing, all those seriously weird aspects of his life kind of hit him at once, and he didn't examine them too closely for fear of finding more than he already has. But Lex kind of makes him think too hard. Makes him puzzle over what words mean and what they could mean. Last night he felt like he was in a movie, like his life was a movie, the kind where people talk and what they say to each other is not all just what the words plainly mean. He feels oddly out of himself, and he doesn't know how to get back in on what's going on. 

Clark takes the long, slow way to Lex's house. It's getting late, the light's that strange orange-pink that signals sundown is close, but Clark is too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice much of anything. He really intended to stay mad. To be righteous and stomp around the loft until Lex came to him, explained what was going on. But he can't escape his nature, even when he's not exactly sure it's him at all. Habit is comfortable, though. And guilt is very much his habit. He has just enough attention trained on his path so that he doesn't walk past the turn-off to the Luthor mansion. The rest of his mind hums with a symphony of self-flagellation centering on two things -- how he lost his control for the first time in he doesn't know how many years, and how _good_ it had felt. He pins his movie-life as more of an after school special, him as the lead: he knows what he did was wrong and why and that he has to live with the consequences. But he feels chills at how sweet the freedom to be mad for once and just give in to emotion felt. When he got home last night, he had to go out to his loft for an hour to get himself under control. Absolutely no way he could face his mom in the state he had worked himself up to and even less chance of explaining to her why he was strung out and a walking hormone. 

He kicks up puffs of dust in the cool air, wonders if he will ever get things back on track with Lex, and `what back on track' means. As if on cue, he sees he's arrived at the turn, lets his feet carry him at a slightly less leisurely pace towards the circular driveway and the huge dark doorway at the height of the arc there. He's hoping that Lex's anger dissipated as quickly as his own had, although he harbors doubts about it. After the slip up last night, he's thinking he has some explaining to do and wonders if he can figure out the words to use this time, keep it friendly. Not bring out that angry buzzing undertone in Lex's voice again. Clark knows about apologizing, sometimes he considers it one of his gifts, like the super eye-beams. He will give Lex his most pathetic look and hope that he caves like just about anyone who isn't his dad. 

The door opens so soon after Clark's first knock that he gets the feeling he was expected. Maybe the Butler stands around waiting for someone to knock when he isn't busy fetching things for Lex. At any rate, he's there and looking at Clark with that slightly bored, completely professional expression on his face. 

"Hey, is Lex at home?" Wishes there was something less "come out and play" he could have come up with to say, considering this is a butler, not Lex's mom or dad at the door, but figures the hell with it. He can tell the Butler isn't exactly thrilled with this portion of his job description. 

"Mr. Luthor said to show you in when you arrived." Graceful step back into the hall, and he waits for Clark to enter. 

Clark, however, is momentarily surprised. "What? He...ok, right." Steps through the doorway, follows the man to Lex's office and makes a conscious effort to not shuffle his feet while he waits to be announced. Less an announcement than a knock on the door and a low, hushed murmuring, and then he's being shown in. The door clicks closed behind him. 

Lex sits at his desk doing paperwork, and he looks right up as Clark walks towards him, easy smile on his face, absolutely no surprise to be found there. "Clark, how have you been?" Voice calm and warm, not a trace of anger or sarcasm. Completely not what Clark was expecting, but he should know by now that Lex is flux personified, that every time they are in each other's company, he says or does something that makes Clark reassess the man and the friendship. 

He shrugs his shoulders a little, hands in his jacket pockets. "OK, I guess. I just wanted to stop by, say I'm sorry." The atonement face appears. 

"You don't have to do that." Vague wave of his hand and Lex is smiling again. He's practically oozing good-natured charm, and Clark is fascinated by the difference twenty fours hours and several hundred dollars of damage to his car seems to have made. 

"It was wrong, I shouldn't have lost my temper like that." Feels his cheeks flush, looks down at his shoes before forcing his eyes back up to Lex's. Still the same expression there, Lex as calm as he's ever seen him. And Clark decides this is way too easy. He messed up in a major way last night, and Lex doesn't appear to care whatsoever. 

Lex takes a few seconds to speak again. "With a baseball bat?" 

Momentarily startled, Clark has to figure what a bat has to do with anything they're talking about. His words stumble until he gets that line of thought. "Uh...yeah, I keep one in the bed of the truck in case there's another scarecrow kinda thing." 

Lex stands, saunters around the desk and gestures to the couch. Sits without waiting for Clark to say yes or no, shows no reaction when Clark joins him, perching at the other end of the deep brown leather bench. Lex leans back into the cushions, arm across the back of the couch. "Right. It's fine. I won't be suing you for the damages." 

"Did you want me to pay you for the bodywork? I could rob a bank, although they have all kinds of new security now." Little jibe at Lex's expense but a harmless one, makes them both smile for the moment. 

"It's ok, Clark. My insurance covered it. Did you just stop by to offer to commit grand larceny?" Lex looks very interested in the answer, and although his posture doesn't change, Clark feels a flutter, light and shivery in his belly. _Is_ that the only reason he stopped by? 

"No, I feel, well, like crap after the last time I was here. I just wanted to say I was sorry." Sits back suddenly and lets out a deep breath, glances sideways at Lex and finds himself turning that way just a bit, mirroring his posture. 

Lex nods. "Apology accepted. I won't offer you a beer. How about a cider?" Not moving until he gets an answer, leaving the whole thing to Clark, no full court press like last time. 

One eyebrow, sleek and black, raises just enough to be noticeable. "Hard cider?" 

Lex shrugs. "Maybe." 

"I've had it before. It's ok. It's like apple juice with a kick." Clark sees taking the drink as another show that he's trying to make up. Lex's being so easy-going, he thinks he has to try harder. 

Lex does move now, gets up and walks to the sideboard. "I'll take that as a yes." 

Clark watches the shirt move across Lex's back as he pours the drink, dark blue bunching and straightening as he moves, doesn't look away when Lex turns and hands him the crystal glass. Before he takes even the first sip, Clark says, "Lex, have you ever been to the Fair?" The words pop out of his mouth as the thought forms, eager to show Lex what friends do, hanging out and just being together. But he doesn't remember all the muscles in his back tensing up like this when he asked Chloe to go to the movies or come over for pizza. 

In the process of sitting, no drink for himself, Lex grins, says, "*The * Fair? I don't think I have." Settles back into the comfortable couch and crosses his legs, ankle resting on opposite knee. 

Clark sips the cider, lets it heat his throat and looks at Lex over the top of the glass "Would you like to go? With me? I was gonna go after I left here." Eyes down again right away, willing to ask but not willing to watch whatever expression might fly across Lex's face before he can control it. He doesn't think that happens to Lex much, uncontrolled expressions of any kind not exactly a weakness he's seen Lex exhibit, unlike himself. 

When he feels the couch shift and looks up, Lex is leaning forward, arms casually resting on his bent leg. There's an expression of deep and serious interest on his face. "Will there be more apple products and a Corn Queen?" 

Wide grin from Clark. "Apple products for sure, but I think they did away with the Corn Queen after women's lib." 

"In that case, I don't see how I can refuse. Sure. Drink your cider while I go upstairs and get my coat." And Clark is very scared now. The weird distance thing comes back full force, and he takes a huge gulp of his drink. 

"K." Clark contemplates his achievements so far for the evening - apology made and accepted, offer to pay made and refused, //thank god, i think i might be 60 before i make enough to pay that off//, drink in hand and Lex coming out of this place with him. Good start to showing him how friends can get along without either one of them buying anything more impressive than a hotdog and possibly the price of a game or two on the fairway. 

Clark downs his cider while Lex takes care of business, and the warmth that spreads to his extremities isn't entirely based on the alcohol content. 

__

Lex doesn't really need to get his own jacket. A slight lift of his voice would bring Christoph slithering into the room to do any mindless errand Lex would demand. But, Lex does need the space, the couple minutes to himself the excuse of the coat brings him. Takes the stairs casually, one after the other, trying to get his heart-rate under control. Clark showed up on cue to a pretty detailed fantasy in which he starred. He even had on the same sweater. Something about the bleeding of unreal into real put Lex at a serious disadvantage. He had worked up quite a few scenarios in which he raked Clark over the coals, made him feel like utter shit, made him beg, made him cry. However, within ten seconds of walking in the room, Lex was trying to figure out how he'd get Clark to stay five minutes more. 

Jacket retrieved, his mind flicks over close-up frames of Clark, eyebrow then blushed cheek then upper lip, when he realizes where he's agreed to go. He's about to let out a sigh when Clark comes into his line of sight. Standing at the foot of the staircase, Clark rolls on the balls of his feet with one hand raking through his hair. His face ruddy, his eyes bright, the boy is wired and off center. Lex decides the Fair might be far more interesting than he'd ever imagined. 

"You ready?" He slides his leather jacket on and waves towards the door. 

"Totally." That makes two of them then. 

__

The Harvest Fair turns out to be almost exactly as Lex pictured it, right down to the straw covered mud they are calling a parking lot. He lets Clark lead the way, around the 4H club pens with prize pigs and demonic looking goats, down to the fairway that bustles with the good folk of Smallville. The air smells like WD-40 from the rides and frying oil from the food stalls, a mixture that causes Lex's stomach to clench until he gets used to it. He allows Clark to shell out the price of a few games, not the least bit surprised when he wins them handily. Doesn't bother to conceal his amusement at the sight of Clark weighted down with cheap stuffed bears and pennants for the Metropolis Sharks. They talk a little, Clark surprising him now and then with some sharpness to his own wit. Delightful, really, to see him relaxing enough to stop blushing with every statement he makes. If he wasn't so anxious to get him into the makeshift alleys between the gaming trailers and do things to that body that would make him blush for a month, Lex would say he was utterly charmed. He doesn't delve too deeply into how easy it is to be here in the moment with Clark enjoying himself during activities he normally disdains. 

"I need something to eat, you want a hotdog? Fries? Anything?" Clark peers around the bear he won at the last booth, and Lex supresses a shudder. Fairground hotdogs and ptomaine go hand in hand as far as he's concerned, and he guides Clark towards something less likely to leave him puking in the car later. 

"Let's indulge the sweet tooth instead." He nods towards the trailer selling candied apples, shaved ices and cotton candy, sees Clark shrug agreeably and follow behind. Brief argument about Lex actually spending the whole five dollars for a caramel apple and a sticky mass of pink spun sugar that Clark manages to lose without too much bad grace. Lex watches as Clark rids himself of bears and pennants by stopping a harassed looking mother with three small children and delivering the whole package deal to her kids, who whoop and squeal with delight, dragging her off before she can do more than say a hurried thank you. 

Lex plucks a bit of the pink fluff with his fingers and lets it dissolve on his tongue while he watches Clark. They're walking towards the rides, conversation secondary to eating for the moment, and it gives Lex time to indulge a thought or two. Watches Clark lick his fingers clean before tossing the stick into a trash barrel, wonders if the boy is as completely unaware of himself as he appears to be tonight. He remember fifteen well, and he doesn't think he spent ten minutes of it this pleased with nothing more than bright lights and ambling. Lex gladly dumps the remainder of his cotton candy in a barrel uneaten, runs his tongue over his teeth and feels the grit of undissolved sugar. 

"You're not bored, are you?" Clark turns to him and walks backwards a few steps until Lex catches up. "I mean, I guess that this might be a little... small town for you." 

"No, boredom isn't an issue here. I'm curious though why you aren't here with your other friends." Curious about how Clark would taste mingled with pink sugar, what kind of sounds his outrage would take to be sampled right here in full sight of God and everyone who's interested. 

"Oh. Well, we'll probably come another night together, I just thought tonight, you and me without the whole twenty question routine from Chloe would be..." His voice trails off and there's that blush again, reliable as the sunrise. 

"That's very thoughtful of you, Clark." Lex hides a grin, one he is sure would set off every warning bell in a 500 foot radius if he let it out fully. 

"Not really. Chloe has the paper dead-line and Pete's 'helping'." Clark's mouth twists into a half smile, and Lex digs down deep to remember that just last night, he'd given up on this one. 

"Ah, so it was either drag me or else ask your mom." Delivery deadpan, but Clark reads the humor there easily. 

His smile folds, his face becomes all somber lines. "You found me out. It was either you or the eternal shame of riding the Ferris wheel with my mom." 

Lex suddenly doesn't think this situation is all that hilarious anymore. "I'm not getting on that death trap." 

"Lex, you drive your car at 120 miles an hour and now you're afraid of a fair ride?" Clark's hand clutches at Lex's elbow, and the touch would normally cause him to gloat, but it harbors his doom, so Lex tries to shake it off. 

"Have you seen a carney up close, Clark? Do you want to entrust your continued existence to someone who may or may not be able to read the safety instructions for the ride?" But all Lex gets for his trouble is a smirk, and all too soon they are entrenched in the line for the Ferris Wheel. 

"Come on, Lex. It'll be fun. The carriage will shake and swing, and just when you're sure it's gonna pop its bolts and plummet to earth, you're at the top and you can see for miles." His hand drops from Lex's elbow and jams into his jacket. Neon glares from the rides down the midway, and Lex can't get a real read on Clark's expression. And that's almost too perfect. 

"You're not selling me here." Which is an utter lie. He'd ride the asinine, swinging pirate ride if Clark asked him to, and he knows it, but it's part of the game, so it doesn't seem like much of a weakness to him. 

"Then how about we make it a pride thing? I dare you to get on." Clark's all teeth now, and in the eerie mid-way brightness, he looks almost predatory. Lex figures that's projection, but he takes almost an entire minute to respond. In that time, Clark doesn't dim the smile, and gets an eyebrow arched halfway through the silence. 

"You're on." But they're moving anyway, no escape could have been made without considerable loss of face. Herd of humanity shuffling two by two into creaking, swinging baskets. Clark hops in first, as the seedy character running the ride holds the carriage steady. Lex keeps his eyes on Clark and only gets a vague impression of denim and a mullet from the carney. 

The safety bar snaps in place as soon as Lex sits down, and he braces himself. The ride shifts forward so the next set of exuberant Smallvillians can clamor aboard. 

"I should have finished my paperwork." Lex leans back against the smooth, steel seat and clenches his jaw. 

Clark grins at Lex's tight clutching of the safety bar every time they stop. The basket does have a wild sway to it, groan of metal probably slightly more frightening than he's giving it credit for. But the weightlessness as they finally begin the ride in earnest and the wheel spins faster is something he would risk death for. Flying, floating, that's what this is like, almost as good as the dreams, definitely better than being pressed against the ceiling. And he doesn't have to hide it, not the sensation of soaring, not the absolute joy he feels in it. He whips his head over at Lex, smile stretched across his face as the wind blows his hair back, and for once he doesn't mind the thumping jolt in the pit of his belly; later, in the dark at home, he can blame it on the ride. This second, he's blissed out, and the feeling of Lex's body slipping over against his when the wheel halts is far too comfortable for him to move away. Allows himself to break his self-imposed rules where those threads of want are concerned, just for now, for the three minutes this ride will last. Feels the warmth of Lex's body where their thighs press together through denim and the fine woven material of Lex's pants. Smells the sharp and distinct odor, juniper and citrus, of Lex's cologne and leather from his jacket when the ride moves again, another spin, and the wind carries it all to him. 

"I can see the appeal," Lex says, shouting a little to be heard. 

"You can?" Knows he not the most subtle of people and that Lex is sharper than anyone he's ever met, and he's pretty sure he's not ready for all of his precious, only-his thoughts to be exposed at the Harvest Fair. Holds his breath as Lex nods and turns to him, smiling as they make another circuit. 

"The vertigo, it's like free fall. Completely addictive. I'd love to take you skydiving sometime, Clark. There's nothing like the rush you get when you leap from the plane and it's just you and the wind." So close, the muscles in Lex's leg tight against his own as he tries to keep himself from rocking and skittering around the compartment. Animation to his features like someone in a play, all over done and bold movements in case he can't be heard, projecting pleasure. Lex's expression holds Clark's attention as he tries to identify what it is that's so different besides the over-pronounced words. Then Lex grins, and Clark gets it. Hits him that this is the first time he's seen Lex look genuinely happy. Not off the chart and over into hysterical, but relaxed and smiling and just. Happy. 

Adds to Clark's feelings of joy, and this time when the wheel stops they're swinging wildly at the very top. Lex slides the rest of the way over in the seat from the force of the sway, shoulder up against Clark's, face bare inches away, and he's grinning as he rights himself. Clark's chest burns, and he realizes he's holding his breath again, fingers digging into the side of the basket, the metal warping under the pressure of his grip. He's light headed, dizzy and half hard, aching for something he can't or won't put a label on. The _want_ is terrifying, worse than any new power he might wake up with on any given day, something unexpected and overwhelming. 

Face hot and muscles across his back and thighs tight, Clark has never been so relieved to get off the Ferris wheel in his life. He lets Lex get out first, takes the opportunity to tug his jacket down over his hips, jams his hands in his pockets as he follows Lex through the turnstile at the exit gate. 

"What's next on the agenda?" Lex appears relaxed and wears that smile, the one that is apparently connected to the lust control portion of Clark's brain, because his stomach feels like fish are leaping around in it, and there's another rush of blood between his legs. He jerks his jacket down harder, almost hunching over as they walk. 

"Actually, I think I have some homework I need to be doing." Lame, stupid, pathetic even to his ears but he can't let anyone see him like this, and proximity to Lex will only keep him in this state. He still feels light with the ride long over, and he needs to get away, needs to think this over from a few more angles before he can begin to deal with the way he's feeling, sweet aching pull that he can't figure as right or wrong. 

"Homework? On a Saturday night?" Lex stops abruptly, forcing Clark to stop with him. In the partial shadows of the trailers, Clark isn't as worried that his `condition' will be so obvious, hopes he's covering well enough. Sees the Lex in his mind jesturing to his crotch with his chin and a leer, and Clark's whole body blushes. 

"Better now than tomorrow. You don't ever want to hear my mom in lecture mode about the importance of homework and good grades." Can't look at him beyond darting glances, knows that it makes him look every bit the liar that he is and, again, there's no way to make himself stop. 

Lex gazes down at the straw-strewn mud, cocks his head as he looks back up at Clark. "Can't argue with that logic, can you? I'll take you home." 

Clark considers refusing the ride, knows that to do so will be asking for the argument and nastiness of last night to come up again. He decides he can handle himself for the 15 minutes it will take them to get from here to the road that leads to the Kent farm and manages to say yes, and thanks, and follows Lex to the car. 

The way the seats of the Testerossa envelop him does nothing to ease Clark's discomfort. Satiny, padded leather cocoons him like an embrace. He watches Lex pull on the leather driving gloves, feels the rumble of the engine as it's gunned and lets gravity press him back even further in the seat as Lex peels out of the lot. 

There's not much in the way of conversation happening, despite Clark trying desperately to find a topic he can use to form a concise thought. He sighs internally when Lex reaches over and hits the radio, sounds of a Macy Gray CD filling the interior. Familiar song from two summers ago, Clark recognizes it and lets it soothe him. An uncomfortable conversation with Lex is the last thing he wants to torture himself with. His eyes are half closed, and it's not a helpful stance to take. Blocking out the sight of Lex does nothing to diminish his impact. Instead, there's more of his scent here in the enclosed space, heavy overtones of leather going straight to the root of Clark's problem, swelling showing no signs of diminishing. The sounds of Lex shifting gears, feet heavy on the clutch and gas. 

They reach his house, and he notices that Lex has pulled right up in the driveway. Clark's eyes seek out the hulking silhouette of his dad's truck, but it's nowhere to be seen. His parents are still at the Fair. And he knows that's the only reason Lex didn't let him off at the road, and he gets a twinge knowing it. 

"Clark, we're here." Both hands on the wheel and he's looking at Clark with no hint of a smile on his face. Not angry, not upset, just composed. Public Lex, and there's something to be found there, but Clark has no idea what it is. 

"I know." Clark presses his hands against the hard length under his jacket, feels it push against his belly, hot and slick. 

"Ok, you running away from home in your own drive way?" Lex gestures at the house with a lift of his chin. 

Desperately says the first thing that comes to his mind. "No, I just, you know, like this song." 

Lex's right hand moves towards the CD player, twists the dial up, up, 7, 8, stops at 9 and the music fills the car, vibrations going through him like electricity, not a help at all. He knows his knees are weak right now, Lex forces those feeling raging up just by being here, not doing a damn thing to encourage him that Clark can find. 

The song ends, and there's a barely discernable beat before the next one comes on, full volume assault on every one of Clark's overwound and strung out senses. His head thuds with the words, makes him breathless and hot and the ache comes winding its way through him. 

"Superlove is something that they say is very rare In the dark, In your world it's everywhere And I feel like an x x rated movie star It's the way you love me down  
It's the way you love me down" 

And Lex is leaning over now, face coming in closer, hand reaching across Clark's body even as Clark turns to meet him. His mouth parts, and he can almost feel Lex's lips on his, can _taste_ it in the heat of his anticipation. Eyes slipping closed, hands pressing harder against his belly, and Lex's face is so close now, right there... 

The light comes on, making Clark blink, as Lex opens the door for him. "Homework." 

"Huh?" Still half turned towards the body crossing him, dazed and well beyond rational thought, Clark can't even form the words. 

"Superlove  
Gimme some, some, some.  
We are the genius of love  
Feel like an x x rated movie star  
It's the way you love me down  
It's the way you love me down" 

But Lex is just leaning over him, hand on the door, almost trapping him in the seat, despite that fact that he's not touching him with anything other than his gaze. "Your excuse?" 

Lex leans back into his own seat, lowers the radio as Clark jerks up, pushes the door open. "Right, I remember. Thanks for the ride." 

"Anytime." 

Standing next to the car, working with the tiny amount of blood left in his brain with most of it flooding next to his skin or dwelling in his nether-regions, Clark leans back down, peers in and sees Lex watching him. Tries to think of something to say, wants to get back in the car and just tell Lex to drive somewhere, anywhere, turn the music up. Instead he stands there, hunched over, hard and needy and too unsure of everything in his world now to know what he should do. He just wants a sign, one gesture to show him what to do. He thinks maybe friends in Metropolis might act this way, wishes Lex would tell him that. 

Lex ponders the steering wheel for a few seconds, and when he looks back his eyes are very dark in the harsh light of the car. "You don't need an excuse with me, Clark. 'I'm confused' will do." 

A nod is all Clark can manage as he shuts the door, walks to the house and into the kitchen, key jumping in his shaking hands. Lex waits until the door shuts behind him before he peels out, and Clark leans against the frame, breathing hard, head pounding. When the sound of the car is just an echo in the room, he tugs frantically at his jeans, pops the button. Drags down the zipper and pushes pants and boxers to his thighs. Takes himself in his fist and is groaning out his release seconds later. Hits the floor on his knees and stays there until he stops shaking. 


End file.
